


Wake up

by AquilaCreed



Series: Mucis prompts [5]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:31:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4493697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquilaCreed/pseuds/AquilaCreed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik is trapped in a reality. The key to leaving is in finding a white shade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake up

**Author's Note:**

> This was a music prompt on my tumblr. The song was I the Mighty - The Dreamer

This reality has become too unusual to him. It was the little things that bothered him. First of all, he can’t remember last time he saw his brother; every time he would leave the apartment or come back, Kadar was never there. Malik knew that Kadar did not move away, he did not stay overnight at friend’s house, he was just not there for some reason. But his room was still a mess, his clothes and things were still very much present there.

The other thing was his job. Every day he would dress himself and go to the building where he worked at, only to find no one there. The building was in a state of perpetual nothing, emptiness, even the computers and folders were gone. There was no other choice but to return home. This trip home seemed to be prolonged, it lasted throughout the day. He found himself immersed in crowds of people. The confusion was constantly present with him.

 

His days begun to merge into one shapeless day; he felt like he was trapped in this world that seemed to change in seemingly insignificant, minor details. But the general theme was most of the times the same. Malik would get up and walk out of his apartment; and Kadar was never there. He would walk alongside the road and someone in a white hood would always bump into him. He would always turn around and yell the person to watch their damn step, but the person would never turn around.

This did not bother him, it was just a random person going about their business. Why would he pay attention to someone that does not watch where they are going? But this person, the form, the pale clothes, the hood, it stick to him for some reason. He remembered the silhouette, he remembered the illumination of eyes, he remembered the half turned face, he remembered the emptiness that was left when the shape of a person disappeared. And as he begun to pay attention to this person there was also a voice, a voice that preceded the form. It seemed to call for him, telling him to stay, to wake up, to come back, to follow the voice. The sound of it was distant and he could not distinguish to whom it belonged to; it was neither man’s nor woman’s voice, yet it was both.

 

And so his days begun to slowly change, he no longer left his apartment to go to work, he no longer wandered aimlessly through the town, he was always looking for this person. His mind interpreted it as a woman in white, and he was determined to find her no matter what. There had to be connection between his never changing days and her.

The problem was that the more he seemed focused to find her, the more she eluded him. If he reached for her, she would disappear. If he ran after her, she merged with the surroundings. Even the voice occurred less and less; or he became deaf to the sound of it.

 

After so many failed attempts, Malik decided not to leave his apartment one day. He stayed there drinking coffee or whatever looked like it. This was the time when he started to question things outside the current reality. The problem no longer lied in repetitive days and white elusive shade; the problem was his past. Only thing he could clearly remember was Kadar; a brother he has not seen in what seemed like months. There was no memory of his past, there was no memory of how he came to be in this apartment, and there was no memory of anything, at all. And so he started to retrace his steps.

Only thing he had was Kadar, so he forced himself to find all the memories of them growing up together. First memory that came to him was a smile, laughter; they were kids playing in their back yard. But all that he saw was that smile, and he was not even sure whose smile it was. The more he tried to remember, the more his reality resonated, twisted and turned. It was like the very fabric of it was being pulled apart.

It was Kadar’s smile.

 

After he saw Kadar’s smile, and his face, and the football in his hands, the memories came rushing in and he was left breathless. There were them, growing up, always together, Malik always watching over him like their mother always told him to.

He saw his school friends again, however few they were. He saw the time he spent with them; he relieved his school years in those few second that took him memories to align. The memories of them studying, having fun, going out, and playing games filled his memories; and Kadar was always there. There was college next, and even fewer friends. He saw Kadar less, but he was still there, vivid in his memory. But in the next set the Kadar was gone; replaced by someone else, someone in white.

 

And the time seemed to stop then; he was back to reality (if he could call it such), still sitting at the table. What broke his confusion of sudden memory flow was the thunder from the outside. He sprung off of the chair, towards the window. There was a storm, heavy rain and merciless wind were surrounding him, reflecting the storm in his head.

 

 _I need to find her_ was only thing that was going through his head. He grabbed the coat and ran outside. What was surprising was that people were still outside, not paying any attention to the sudden change of the weather. He kept running, searching for the person in white; he was determined to ask for answers, now he knew that she was connected to everything.

He was rushing through the people, pushing them aside, looking for white spectre. And there it was, walking away from him.

 

“Wait!” he pushed aside more people that were in his way “Hey! Hey, stop!” he managed to reach her, for the first time in forever. He managed to touch her, for the first time she did not disappear. “Wait.” He turned her around and the first thing he saw was a pair of golden eyes. He needed a moment to realize that the person was a man, with a scar on his lips; and the voice he heard was his.

“Malik! Wake up! Malik, can you hear me? MALIK!” the voice was calling him, getting louder and louder, but the face remained stoic, expressionless. Malik stumbled back at the sound of the voice, and the person grabbed his shoulders as the voice become louder “Malik! Answer me!”

 

Malik woke up in a hospital bed with intense heaving; his hand was holding on to something, someone’s hand. “Malik…” golden eyes were looking at him with tears “…you are finally awake…” he was holding his hand, he was clinging to it. That is why he heard his voice so clearly.

Malik’s hand reached for his face, to hold him and to wipe the tears away “Altair… am I home?”

 

“No, you are in hospital. You were in an accident and…”

 

“I want to go home. Take me home.” 


End file.
